If Wizards Were Pirates
by A Little Differently
Summary: When Captain James Potter fell in love with Rogue Lily Evans, he knew things were about to spiral out of control. On his journey comes along his daughter, Harriet Potter. Captain Voldemort of the Death ship has his own vendetta with the very special Princess Harriet, and not always can Harry win from the demons within. Fem!Harry/Draco Malfoy. (May raise rating to M later)
1. Because love comes first

_If Wizards Were Pirates…_

AU fan fiction

Fiction name: If Wizards Were Pirates...

Author name: A Little Differently

Pairings:  
_Harriet P./ Draco M.  
_Ronald W./ Theodore N.  
_Hermione G./ Blaise Z.  
_James P./ Lily E.  
_Luna L./ Sirius B.  
_Remus L./ Nymphadora T.

Summary: When Captain James Potter fell in love with Rogue Lily Evans, he knew things were about to spiral out of control. On his journey comes along his daughter, Harriet Potter. Captain Voldemort of the Death ship has his own vendetta with the very special Princess Harriet, and not always can Harry win from the demons within.

Author's Note: Mature content later on. I own nothing you recognize, but the plot is copyrighted by me. I earn no profit from writing, but it's just my passion for writing that brings me here. Hit the Favorite and Follow buttons if you appreciate my work and Review why if you don't like it. Also, feel free to Review if you like it. Anyways, without further ado... here goes. *Deep Breath*

* * *

 **Chapter One: Because love comes first...**

Cries filled the room as the screams subsided. Lily panted as she slumped back. James picked his daughter up in his hands, one tear cascading down his cheek. "It's a girl, Captain," the midwife said with a tearful smile.

"She's... so small..."

Lily chuckled. "I'm sorry, do you think you can give birth to a bigger child from between your legs, Captain?" she teased.

"I'll leave you two alone." And with that, the midwife left the dungeon room.

"No, my Lady," James said, rocking the child back and forth to pacify her. "I didn't mean to disparage you. I was merely astonished at the ever-so-small size of the baby."

Lily smiled softly at that. "I know that, James. I was only teasing you. Now, may I please hold her once?"

"Of course, Lils." He handed the little child to her mother. "She has your eyes. But hers are lighter."

Lily grinned. "But, oh that nose! It's definitely yours, Jamie, except it looks sort of like a bunny's nose. Like a button nose."

James grinned. "Daddy's little girl." Then, turning to Lily, "Come on, I'll clean all the blood here. We have yet to show the baby to Paddy, Moony and Wormy and the entire ship crew."

* * *

Elder Albus Dumbledore raised the young girl in the air, so that the whole ship could see.

"Here stands Harriet James Potter, the daughter of Captain James Potter, the Captain of the ship _Marauder_ and the descendant of the _Most_ _Ancient_ _and_ _Noble_ _House_ _of_ _Potter_!" Dumbledore announced grandly.

"All hail Captain Potter!"

"All hail Captain Potter!"

"All hail Captain Potter!"

"All hail Captain Potter!"

"All hail Captain Potter!"

"Let the Great Feast... begin!" roared James.

"Hey mister," a buff voice called out. James whirled around, only to be captured into the arms of his Padfoot.

"Drop it, Padfoot," James rolled his eyes. "That voice isn't fooling anyone."

Sirius grinned. "Not you maybe, Prongs, but that's cuz we're in love."

James barked out a laugh. "Where's Moony? He's the real love of my life." He sighed dreamily, "Oh his soft smiles and fluttering lashes..."

Sirius gained a dark look. "Moony's there, talking to the Elders. James… the crew of the Death ship has been causing trouble lately."

James sucked a breath through his teeth, all humor lost. "We'll have to do something, and soon, Padfoot."

Sirius nodded. "Where's Wormtail? He was supposed to be here before Moony and I reached."

James sighed deeply. "His mother got sick. He won't be able to come."

"God," Sirius muttered, raking a hand through his hair. "What is happening, James? Even the seas aren't calm anymore. Something bad is coming."

"Sailors are suddenly getting seasick," James added. "Something is definitely up." Then, taking in a deep breath, "We'll just have to find out, then. I heard the Death ship docks at Riddle Island. You take care of Lily and Harriet. I'll be back."

"Hey Captain," Lily said, appearing behind James with a hand on his shoulder. James turned around and smiled guiltily. "You aren't going anywhere alone."

"Exactly," Sirius agreed, "I'm coming with you. Like always. What we do, we do together."

"As am I. You are my husband, James," Lily said with emphasis as James tried to interrupt. "We are bound for eternity. We vowed we would always be together, and this is no different."

"But Lils," James protested. "Harry-"

"We'll be back soon, James. There's no need to worry about Harry."

"Yeah," Sirius butted in. "My goddaughter's one heck of a pirate."

"Huh," James said drily. "That's news."

* * *

"Ok, how do we put this thing to sleep?"

Lily chuckled at that. "You put your hands under her head and waist and rock her back and forth."

James tried exactly that, but Harry only cried more at that. "Oh my god!" he panicked. He pulled his tongue out and made various hilarious faces at the young girl in his arms. The toddler calmed down instantaneously and started giggling as she tried to catch her father's tongue.

"You're doing great, Jamie," Lily praised.

"Ha-ha-ha," he said sarcastically. The little girl's face scrunched as her source of entertainment turned away and she sniffed, tears welling in her eyes.

"Oh no," Lily pointed discreetly at Harry. "Goodnight James. I'm out of here."

James turned back fearfully to the miniature Marauder in his hands. "Don't cry, Prongsy…" But to James's surprise, Harry just turned her face to his chest and burrowed her face in his fishing cloak.

Quickly, he took a seat, gently bouncing the baby up and down to get her to sleep. At that moment, James knew that this girl had him wound around her little finger and that Lily, Harry, the Marauders and his ship's crew members were his life. Harry yawned, showing off her gums with no teeth at all and gently nibbled on James's cloak. When James offered her his hand to chew, she turned her large, circular eyes to James.

Mesmerized, James stared into the striking emerald green orbs which were shinier than Lily's own. The trace of a small curve started at the end of Harry's eyes, hinting that she would either have almond shaped eyes or peacock ones. Harry's eyes fluttered shut as she peacefully tried to devour James's index finger.

James smiled brightly and kissed Harry's nose, which she scrunched at the touch, after which he carried her carefully to the crib, watching her body tilt to the side comfortably as the child dozed off.

Silently, James promised himself that he would never let anything hurt his daughter as long as he was alive. Contentedly, he quietly laid on the bed beside Lily, letting her arms embrace him, lulling him into sleep.


	2. When life doesn't give you lemons

**Chapter Two: When life doesn't give you lemons…**

The persistent banging on Harriet's cupboard door was what she had woken up to for a decade, and today was nothing different.

Spitting away strands on tangled pitch black hair that had landed in her mouth through the night, Harry glared at her reflection in the mirror. What she really needed right now was a haircut, but apparently the Dursleys were so poor so as to not be able to afford one. That was exactly why the Dursleys were going to spend their son's birthday in the most posh zoo, _Exotica Prime_.

"Up! Get up!" screeched her Aunt Petunia.

Harry silently cursed her stars and the gods beyond as she pulled a worn out pair of socks and got them on, struggling to brush tangles out of her hair as emerald green eyes focused on the bird's nest she called her hair. When the effort got painful, she gave up and trotted to the kitchen, where her Aunt instructed her to cook bacon and eggs.

Harry had never met her mother, not that she remembered of, but looking at Petunia, Harry could guess that Lily wouldn't have been a really nice person. Then again, Harry knew too little of the family that she couldn't rejoice, and jumping to conclusions might not be a smart move.

Bitterly, Harry glanced at the mound of presents Dudley had gathered for his special day. It was rare for Harry to get any gifts, let alone visitors. Secretly, she always hoped that a distant aunt or an old, disgruntled grandfather would come along, demanding to see their niece or granddaughter. Hope wasn't lost, but the Dursleys took special care to remind her that she had absolutely no one. It seemed to be the only thing they could do, if you put aside child labor, torture, slavery, slaps, punches, kicks, and almost everything, really. Dudley really was a pampered kid.

"Get me my bacon!" demanded Dudley. Sighing, Harry arranged four plates, two in each hand, with slices of bacon on it.

As she served Dudley, she couldn't help but notice that he was taller than her even when he stayed sitting. Maybe it all came from staying in the dark, closeted cupboard under the stairs.

Vernon grandly entered the kitchen, in all his piggish glory, and barked to Harry, "Comb your hair." What he couldn't understand was that it was impossible for Harry to comb her hair properly with a broken brush and tangled, unkempt hip-length hair.

Quietly and unsuspectingly, Harry dug into her food before Dudley could even try to snatch it, after which she moved to the sink to do the plates. Various tantrums from Dudley followed later, when suddenly the phone rang and Petunia hurried to fetch it. When she returned, she looked like someone had died.

Vernon, of course, noticed this and asked, "What is it, Petunia?"

"It was Mrs. Figg," Petunia said gravely, "She can't keep the girl."

Harriet knew the 'girl' was her, and, excited to be getting a free day away from the Dursleys, she fastened her pace at scrubbing the dishes. She planned to have a good day's sleep today.

Dudley screamed in horror. "She can't spoil my birthday party!"

While Petunia tried to calm Dudley, Harry smiled secretly.

"We can't leave her here to destroy our home," Vernon said.

"I suppose we could take her to zoo, and just leave her in the car…" Petunia tried.

"The car's new, Petunia, not the car," Vernon said.

Just then Dudley started wailing loudly, and basically throwing another tantrum. "She can't come!" he insisted. The door bell rang loudly, signaling that Dudley's friend, Piers was here. Harry gulped. She had always hated that boy.

Dudley and Petunia attended to the doorbell while Vernon threateningly pointed his index at Harry. "Now you listen here, girl. I don't want any funny business from you… _any_ funny business."

Gulping, Harry nodded as her heart leapt. She had never been anywhere except Privet Drive. The day might just be a good one for her. Or maybe not.

* * *

It was Harry's first time to the zoo, the most famous in Surrey, and she had already had so much fun, having eaten a lemon pop ice cream and a knickerbockers glory that she thought today might be her best day. Oh how mistaken she was.

They entered the cold reptile house, lined with window and air conditioners, and man-crushing pythons and snakes. Dudley and Piers, of course, went straight to the largest python of all.

Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.

"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on. "This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away. Harry moved in front of the tank and stared intently at the snake. The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's. It winked. Harry stared. Then she looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. She looked back at the snake and winked, too. The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry an exasperated look.

"I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though she wasn't sure the snake could hear her. "It must be really annoying." As the snake nodded vigorously, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump.

"Dudley! Mr. Dursley! Come and look at this snake! You won't believe what it is doing!" Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.

"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened – one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the snake's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits. As the snake slid swiftly past her, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come... Thanks, amigo..."

The keeper of the reptile house was in shock. The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"

Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go - cupboard - stay - no meals," before he collapsed into a chair and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.

Harry lay in her dark cupboard much later, wishing she had a watch. She didn't know what time it was and she couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, she couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food. She'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as she could remember, ever since she'd been a baby and her parents had died in that car crash. All she remembered of that day was a siren wailing, a green, blinding light and lots of water in her lungs. She suspected that was where she got her fear of water from. Sighing, she turned over, laying flat on her stomach.

She only hoped against hope that her life would somehow change, miraculously.

Coincidental as it may seem, fate had some interesting plans for her.


	3. Be careful what you ask for

**Chapter Three: Be careful what you ask for**

Days past the escapade of the Boa Constrictor were spent in the darkness of her cupboard, bored and looking for a chance to voyage on a quest for food. Harry was positive she had lost six pounds worth of mass from her already starved physique.

Harry could only rejoice in the fact that school term was over. She never liked anyone from school anyways. So when Thursday came, Harry made it a point to get out of the house and roam unseen gardens that she'd somehow never found the interest to discover.

For days put together, Harry steered clear of the Dursleys like the plague. Some days later, when Harry entered the kitchen, a sharp, disgusting stench of bleach greeted her. She wrinkled her nose and asked Petunia, "What is it?"

Petunia ignored Harry like she usually did. Harry rolled her eyes and repeated herself. Petunia's lips thinned like they always did when Harry dared to ask a question.

"Your school uniform," she said. "I'm dying some of my old clothes gray. They'll look like just everyone else's."

Harry's brows rose of their own accord. She highly doubted that but after such a long fortnight in the cupboard, she decided not to say anything else.

She had finished her primary school and thankfully, for the first time ever, she and Dudley would be going to separate secondary schools. Harry would be going to Stonewall High, the local public school and Dudley was admitted to Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. Though Harry wasn't overly cheerful, she felt a ray of hope striking through: getting away from Dudley and his lot.

Speaking of the devil, in came Dudley and his father: two identical men with little or no neck, depending on the angle at which you looked. They scrunched their noses as they sat on the table, when the distinct click of the mailbox sounded.

"Get the mail, Dudley," Uncle Vernon said.

"Make Harry get it."

"Get the mail, Harry."

"Make Dudley get it."

"Poke her with your Smeltings stick, Dudley."

Dodging Dudley's attempt, Harry rolled her eyes as she ran over to get the mail. She didn't know who she got her sarcastic streak from, but it had landed her into trouble once too many times. Three letters lay on the rustic doormat: Uncle Vernon's sister, Aunt Marge's letter, an electric bill and what was that? Harry zoomed in on the address:

 _Ms H. Potter,_

 _The Cupboard Under The Stairs,_

 _4 Privet Drive,_

 _Little Whinging,_

 _Surrey_

Harry stared unblinkingly for what was a whole of two minutes at the thick brown paper stained with green ink before Uncle Vernon called her. Her heart started beating faster like a fish flailing in a fish net knowing freedom was an inch away. Who could've written to her? Who knew where she lived? How did someone know that? A million questions raced in her mind.

"Girl! What are you taking so much time for?" Vernon roared.

Still staring at her letter, Harry moved in, basically dragging her feet. She tossed Marge's letter and bill on the table, one of the only times she'd risked being so daring. She knocked back a chair and sat down, slowly opening the yellow envelope.

Vernon ripped open Marge's letter and was about to say something, when Dudley screamed, "Dad! Dad, Harry's got something, dad!"

Harry was about to read the thick, fiber-y letter, when it was snatched out of her hand sharply by Uncle Vernon. Indignant and angered, she snapped her head to him.

"That's mine!" she screamed, attempting to snatch it back; and being so short and powerless didn't help her one bit.

"Who'd be writing to _you?_ " Vernon sneered venomously. As he skimmed through the contents, the transformation on his face was evident and priceless. He went from red to green to pale in only a matter of seconds, looking as if he was on the verge of a heart attack. "P-Petunia!" he gasped. He handed the letter to Petunia. Harry tried to snatch the letter, but Vernon held it out of her reach.

Her eyes widened to the size of saucer plates, and she made an indistinct choking noise. "Vernon! Oh goodness, Vernon!"

"I want to read it!" Dudley whined.

"No, I want to read it, seeing as it's mine," Harry said fiercely.

"Get out both of you," Vernon ordered sternly.

"I'll have that letter!" Harry made a wild grab for the letter, but Petunia held it back as Dudley tried to smack his father with his Smeltings stick. Uncle Vernon grabbed them both by their collars and dragged them out of the room, pushing them out and slamming the door in their face.

Harry and Dudley scarpered over to the kitchen door, and after Dudley won a silent fight over who would listen through the keyhole, Harry laid on the ground to eavesdrop on her Aunt and Uncle's conversation through the crack between the door and the floor.

"Vernon…" Petunia said shakily, "look at the address. Do you think they're spying on us? What should we do? Should we write back and say no? Or-"

"No, Petunia. We'd promised we would bring an end to this dangerous rubbish," Vernon muttered while pacing the kitchen floor. "No, we should ignore them. That's best. No bother. None at all."

* * *

When he came back from work that day, Vernon visited Harry's cupboard for the first time. He had a painful smile plastered on, and his bulk filled half the cupboard.

"Who wrote me? Where's my letter?" Harry demanded.

"No one," Uncle Vernon replied shortly. "It was a mistake. I've burned it."

Enraged, Harry defended, "It had my cupboard on it!"

"Down, girl!" Uncle Vernon took in a deep breath. "About that…Your aunt and I have been talking…You're getting too big for this cupboard…You're a growing young woman and you need a room of your own…So we've decided to give you Dudley's second bedroom."

Harry sat stunned for a moment. 'Growing young woman'? And Dudley's second room? That was basically a sacred place for Dudley's broken toys. The Dursleys smallest bedroom was this second bedroom.

"Now what are you looking at my face for, girl?" demanded Uncle Vernon. "Get out!"

It barely took Harry one trip to get all her stuff up, which basically consisted of her toiletries and a pair of clothes. As she was walking up, Harry could hear Dudley bawling to Petunia about how she would wreck all his toys and tear his books. Harry ground her teeth. As if.

Dudley's room was filled to the brim with junk, and she barely had space for her things, but she dusted away all the junk on the bed and the nightstand to make place for her stuff.

Harry laid on the bed, brooding, for the whole day forward, imagining what would be in that letter. Her dreams were enough to occupy her for the day, and overwhelm her in the dark of the night. A tear cascaded down her eyes, almost to her nose. She wiped it before it reached there. One drop wouldn't drown her, but fear made a person irrational.

She would rather have the letter and stay in the cupboard than without it here. Someone had rightly said, that we must be careful what we ask for.


	4. Each night is a blue moon

**Chapter Four: Each night is a blue moon**

The next morning was as quiet as the grave. No one said a thing, and Harry just played around with her food idly. The Dursleys carried on with their work as usual. Dudley was rather shocked. It had to be the first time ever that his parents refused his demands. Though the sense of revenge brought Harry some satisfaction, she was in a worse state.

She didn't have to work for the Dursleys that day, no cooking, no cleaning, no repainting the garden or anything whatsoever. Any other day, she would've been relieved but today, not having work to distract herself felt like torture. All she could do was bitterly think about this time yesterday, when she'd got her first ever letter. She should've read the letter then and there. Even though she sat quietly, she wanted to scream her throat hoarse.

As it happened, her Uncle and Aunt were trying to be very polite to her, so for the first time since she'd been born, Aunt Petunia cooked for her and cleaned Dudley's second room to make space for her things. Uncle Vernon had even offered her the T.V. So when the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon asked Dudley to get it. Dudley grumbled loudly and broke one expensive vase with his Smeltings stick that Uncle Vernon's sister Marge had bought from Rome.

Out of the blue, a scream rang, undoubtedly Dudley's. "There's another one! _Ms H Potter, the Smallest Bedroom-_ "

Uncle Vernon yelled and raced to Dudley as fast as his legs could carry him. Harry, awakened and her heart wrestling her lungs in her chest, ran past her Uncle and to Dudley. She slapped his hand and was about to catch the letter when-

"Give that here, girl!"

Harry screamed in retaliation and strangled her Uncle, trying to get her hands on the letter. Unfortunately for her, she was so skinny that Uncle Vernon could basically toss her aside with one flick of his finger. Uncle Vernon emerged victorious.

"Go – to your – cupboard," Uncle Vernon wheezed at Harry. "I mean – to your room – and Dudley – just go."

Sorely, Harry dragged her feet up the stairs to _her_ room. She paced around aimlessly, wondering what Uncle Vernon could be hiding from her, and even _Dudley_ for that matter.

What Dudley had read, though, made her curious. The person who'd been writing her knew that she had moved from the cupboard to the second bedroom. Who knew this and how could they? More importantly, if they'd sent a letter after the first one, then that had to mean that they would send it again. But this time around, Harry would be prepared.

* * *

The broken, cracked and bubbled alarm clock that Harry had to make do with for all these years rang at six o'clock in the morning. Harry quickly shut it off and sneaked down the steps slowly, slowly, creeping towards the mailbox when…

Harry screamed as she stepped on something, or someone, who happened to be very much alive.

Uncle Vernon had been there all along, trying to prevent Harry from doing exactly what she had planned to do. After half an hour of Uncle Vernon shouting at Harry, he ordered her to make a strong cup of black tea. When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon shredded them before Harry could even utter a word. Uncle Vernon nailed the mail slot close. He stayed at home all the days the letters kept sneaking in.

That didn't stop the letters, though. They kept on flowing in, with eggs, with milk packets, crack between the door and floor, the bathroom window and whatnot. Nothing seemed to perturb the mysterious informer. No less than thirty letters had been pushed through the kitchen window.

By the time Sunday had rolled around, all the residents of, Privet Drive had been pushed to their limits. No one talked, and if they did, it was usually in clipped snipes. Uncle Vernon looked worn out and sick, but happy nonetheless. He kept announcing, "What a pleasant day! No mails on Sunday!" It did nothing to cool Harry's boiling temper. The opposite, in fact. One time as he repeated that to mock Harry, something jabbed him sharply behind the head.

The next moment, about four dozens of letters came pouring through the chimney, down and down, and hit Uncle Vernon on the head like bullets, as if trying prove him wrong.

"Get out all of you!" Uncle Vernon gripped a fraction of Harry's hair roughly and shoved her out of the living room, as Aunt Petunia shielded Dudley from the incoming letters. Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut, and pressed his back against it. "That does it," he rasped, "No more of this nuisance. Pack only your clothes. We're leaving in five."

Harry had had so much that she stomped up the stairs and slammed the door as she pulled out a knit sweater, her school sports cap and ripped jeans. She dumped it in her empty school bag and trooped back downstairs.

Occupying one fourth of a seat in the backseat, Harry folded her arms and stared out of the moving car with eyes squinted against the gusting wind. They sped down the unending highway for hours on end, Harry leaning her head on the windowsill, tired, and hitting her head on the car frame each time Uncle Vernon swerved the car sharply. All through the day, they didn't stop for anything – food, water, or even visiting the restroom. Harry felt terrified sitting next to Dudley, lest some accident take place…

She shuddered at the thought, scooting closer to the window than she already was.

Dudley was positively fuming. He'd missed his lunch, five television shows and video games. Finally, Uncle Vernon stopped at a shaggy inn at the outskirts of the city, and barked at them to get out of the car. Harry scurried behind them, still not understanding what was so important in the letter that made the Dursleys desperately abandon their lifestyles to prevent her from reading it. That only made her desire to read it multiply tenfold.

Harry and Dudley had to share a room, and as Dudley snored on undeterred, Harry sat on the windowsill, with her legs curled in and her arms enveloping her thighs. She sighed, frustrated, willing it all to go back to normal. But also at a certain level she felt that she had come so far, and might as well see the end result. She chose the latter option. She was already so deep into this, she felt she _deserved_ to reach the end of it…So close…

* * *

The next morning, Harry filled her starving stomach with some cornflakes and tomatoes, as odd as it sounded. While Harry was scrounging cornflakes from her plate, the owner came by and asked in a thick, Scottish accent: "Is anyone here Ms H Potter? I've gotten 'bout an 'undred of these at the desk."

Harry made to snatch it, but before she could, Uncle Vernon slapped her hand away. The owner stared. "I'll have those," Uncle Vernon said hurriedly, pocketing the letter and pulling Harry along before shoving her into the car. Aunt Petunia and Dudley followed soon.

After another bout of crazy, aimless driving (in Harry's opinion), Aunt Petunia timidly asked, "Shouldn't we be heading home, honey? It's Monday and you have office to attend…" But Uncle Vernon just kept looking ahead, whistling to the tune of 'Tiptoe through the tulips', and paid her no heed. What Uncle Vernon was looking for, nobody knew, but even Aunt Petunia was getting ticked off now. Dudley even dared to quietly ask, "Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he, Mum?"

A while later, Uncle Vernon stopped the car and disappeared into a nearby cottage, some distance along the road. It started raining heavily.

Uncle Vernon came back with a toothless fisherman, who seemed to bow to Harriet. She flashed a puzzled look to the boat uncle Vernon pointed to. Fear gripped Harry…they couldn't possibly be traveling on water…that was nonsense…they _couldn't_ …

"Get in it!" uncle Vernon ordered.

The fisherman rowed us along the sea on and on, until the coastline was but a line on the horizon of the endless sea. Harry sat shivering on the edge of the boat. Harry tried to block the fear by reciting good thing in her brain. _Today is Monday…tomorrow is Tuesday…tomorrow is my birthday…Ah! Tomorrow? I will turn eleven tomorrow…if I survive this ride._

They docked on a miserable, shattered rock, cracked undoubtedly by the sea, and Harry shivered. Partially from the cold, partially from the fear.

The inside smelt of dead seaweed and alcohol fire, and the grass was brutally charred on the ground. Unsurprisingly, that was where the Dursleys made her sleep, on the wet rug. Uncle Vernon attempted to start a fire, but all the plastic bags just shriveled up uselessly.

"Ah!" he said cheerfully, "Could've used those letters now!"

Even Harry wasn't dumb enough to deny that the letters wouldn't be arriving here in a storm. Hopelessly, she slumped on the rug, instantly recoiling at the coldness of the cloth. She flinched and sneezed, getting away from the rug and nearer to the sofa. She curled up on the soft mud that lay below, trying to steal a blanket from Dudley, who slept on the sofa with five of his own. Obviously, it didn't work.

Harry rolled into a ball and nested her head on the moth-eaten sofa, as the waves lulled her to sleep, bit by bit…but she was woken by her rumbling stomach. She hadn't eaten much, and it didn't help that she was already starved. Glancing at Dudley's watch, she realized she would be eleven in two minutes' time. So, having nothing better to do, she counted the time until her birthday.

 _One…Two…Three…Four…Five…_

 _Ten…_

 _Thirty…_

She heard a funny crunching noise outside, and hoped it wasn't the water level rising.

 _Sixty…_

Would 4, Privet Drive be flooded with letters, and drown the Dursleys when they entered? (Hopefully not her)

 _Hundred…_

The water level was definitely rising…

 _One hundred and ten…_

 _Ten seconds to go…_

 _Nine…Eight…Seven…Five…-_ she was not good at math – _Four…Three…Two…_

 _Boom!_

Harry sat up fearfully. Someone was banging at the door.

 _Boom!_

It was getting stronger each second.

 _BOOM!_

Harry sat bolt upright. _What the-_

Someone was outside, and they wanted to come in.

* * *

 **A/N: Now that the major part of the canon intro info-chuck is over, we might as well kick into original content. Further chapters will have my original content and a new phase of Harriet and Hogwarts in itself.**

 **Delilah Knight:** _What you say is true – be careful what you ask for, but then again, don't you regret every decision you make in some or the other way?_

 **Yeah, but that's the problem. When we make a decision we mustn't regret it. It is human nature, considered, but regret only serves to burden you. That's why we need to be very decisive and headstrong. That's the way to live better! :)**

 **Celestial-dragneel13: My first fan reviewer besides Delilah! (Of course, you were the first Del… don't cry over it!) Thank you so much, Celeste. This early update is dedicated to you!**


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